


Long Way Home

by BlueWorld



Category: She-Ra and the Princesses of Power (2018)
Genre: Angst, F/F, Gen, Kyle isn't actually useless, Lonnie tries her best, M/M, Madame Razz's Hut, No one is alright, Rogelio needs a hug, Stranded, Takes place around season 4, Wilderness Survival
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-05
Updated: 2020-08-05
Packaged: 2021-03-05 23:26:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,977
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25523572
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlueWorld/pseuds/BlueWorld
Summary: They’re lost in the hostile territory. The tank is broken. They could die in a number of horrible ways if they just stayed there and waited for someone to find them. The Whispering Woods are rife with large and dangerous magical creatures that they are in no condition to fight. Exposure to the elements could kill them in a matter of hours; it’s the dead of winter after all. On top of that, they have no idea where they are. They could be a stones throw from Bright Moon for all they know, and if they couldn’t take on a wild animal, there’s no way they could defend themselves against a princess. Rogelio has a concussion. Kyle can’t walk. No one is coming to rescue them. Lonnie isn't seeing a lot of options here.
Comments: 1
Kudos: 9





	Long Way Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Survival protocol dictates staying with your vehicle. Lonnie knows better.

“Ugh could this possibly take any longer,” Lonnie complained from her passenger seat. The tank they were equipped with was one of the older, heavier, slower models, the kind that had a seat for the driver and one for a passenger in the front. The wheel was in the front left corner of the vehicle, unlike the newer models that had one seat in the front center for a driver and rows of benches in the body for troops. Instead, the back was packed full of cargo boxes; they were hauling armor out to one of the forward outposts in bumfuck nowhere in the creepy as hell Whispering Woods. Lonnie was certain that the people posted out there were only sent there as a punishment. The front lines were usually reserved for soldiers who had annoyed or offended their force captains in spectacular ways. It was almost as bad as Beast Island. She tried not to think too hard about what that meant for them being assigned this little excursion.

Lonnie had kicked her feet up on the control panel when they left the hangar bay, legs crossed, arms crossed, sour expression on her face, and remained in the passenger seat. She was _not_ sulking. She was just bored and frustrated that this was taking so long. Rogelio growled from the back where he was sitting with his legs crossed on top of one of the crates and Lonnie assumed it was also in impatience.

“look it’s going as fast as it can,” Kyle repeated, for the fourth time that hour, and Lonnie swears if she just saw Kyle roll his eyes at her-

“Even at this pace we were supposed to have reached the outpost a while ago. Force Captain Scorpia said just follow the map but I think she drew it herself and nothing is matching up to the terrain!” Kyle waved a piece of paper up and down in the air, like it’s presence would defend him.

Lonnie unfolded her limbs for the first time in an hour and snatched the paper out of Kyles hands.

“She gave us a paper map? Can Scorpia just get her shit together, please? What’s with how weird she’s been acting lately? I mean she’s always been disorganized but this is a whole other level, even for her. What’s wrong with a regular tablet?”

Lonnie felt a tap on her shoulder and turned to Rogelio, who signed _This map familiar?_

“You mean does the crayon it’s drawn in look familiar?” Lonnie sassed.

They both leaned over Kyles shoulder to get a better look.

“I mean, yeah, that’s the Fright Zone here,” Kyle pointed to one corner. “And I think that’s the river, there’s the scrap heap, which means that’s north, and the outpost we’re looking for should be over here.”

“you sure that’s the scrap heap? It looks more like the junk yard to me. That should be north-” she pointed well below where Kyle had on the map “-that way. Which means the outpost is…”

The main screen flared to life above them, scaring them all out of their skins. Through waves of static, Catra’s pinched face loomed over them. Her hair was matted and the circles under her eyes made it clear she hadn’t slept in days. Her headpiece was slightly askew. It’s not like Lonnie didn’t already know Catra was losing it, but it was always another thing to see visual evidence of her descent into madness.

“Where the hell are you guys?” Catra screeched. “What is taking so long? You were supposed to have checked in at the Southern Outpost already.”

Lonnie turned to glare at Kyle and mouthed “Southern outpost”. He shrank into his seat. Lonnie straightened and steeled herself to address Catra.

“We’re still en route, Commander. The map Force Captain Scorpia provided was imprecise.”

Catra’s eye twitched. Lonnie’s stomach suddenly felt like it had a coke collar around it.

“Map? What map?! Are you stupid? You were supposed to use the-” the video cut out into a brief, grey, static. When it reappeared, Catra was still spitting words. “-don’t know what else I expected from _you_! You’re worse than useless! Drop off the armor and get your asses back here by tomorrow!”

Lonnie bit her tongue. “Yes, Commander Catra,” the name felt like bile in her mouth. The video cut out.

The three of them looked at each other. Lonnie sighed, suddenly exhausted.

“Great going Kyle. You’re never allowed to navigate again.” She ignored his squeak of protest.

“What are we going to do?” Kyle asked, a crease between his brows. “if we’re in the north and we’re supposed to be at the southern outpost, there’s no way we’ll make it there and back to the Fright Zone by tomorrow. It took almost a whole day to-”

“To get lost?!” Lonnie snapped. Kyle turned to Rogelio, looking for support, but Rogelio had crossed his arms and was shaking his head in disappointment.

“Kyle, turn the tank around. Let’s follow out tracks back, and when we know where we are, we can start heading south.” She slouched back into the passenger seat, suddenly tired. “we’re going to have to travel through the night. Maybe we can make it back to the Fright Zone by tomorrow night, and then Catra will just flay us alive, not kill us.”

Rogelio grumbled and sat back down on his crate. Kyle sighed and started redirecting the tank. Lonnie had passed the point where she cared.

Catra had been pushing them nonstop. After that quadruple shift and the little freak out that happened afterwards, any goodwill Lonnie had harbored towards her former teammate was gone. She’d given Catra the benefit of the doubt and she had been shouted at, forced to work insane shifts, manhandled, and shouted at again. Even worse, Catra have given the same treatment to the boys. The Horde had made more progress than ever while Catra was playing Hordak’s pet, but Lonnie could hardly wait until she slipped up and Hordak made an example of her. According to Scorpia, it had almost happened once already. If Catra’s appearance was anything to go by, it wouldn’t be long.

The tank lurched to a halt and Something outside make a keening whine.

“Uh, was that the tank?” Lonnie asked. Kyle did something with the controls that made the engine grind, then sputter. There was a moment of silence.

The tank suddenly lurched sideways. They were all thrown from their seats as the sound of scraping, tearing metal wrenched through the air. Lonnie was only slightly ashamed she was taken unawares. She covered her head and tucked her legs under her body, trying to roll with the tank. The crates went flying. She hit the wall – the floor? – so hard it knocked the breath out of her. She heard Kyle scream in pain. The tank settled for a moment on its side, creaking, an ominous moment of silence, then something hit them again.

“What the hell?!” Lonnie screamed. Rogelio snarled and pulled her by the arm to the hatch. A few of the crates had busted open. The armor plating that was supposed to be on the roof was now the wall, and the hatch was swinging open, like a door half off its hinges. Lonnie tried to clamber out, but her foot got caught on something – Rogelio pushed her out and she fell on her arms onto soft moss and sticks. He slithered out behind her, and they turned to see what had happened.

A giant purple snake was coiled in front of the tank. Its eyes were yellow slits filled with aggression and intent in a way that reminded Lonnie of Hordak the one time she had seen him in person. The hood flared around it’s head as it hissed. The snake was so big one of its fangs was the size of Lonnie’s forearm. She grabbled at her belt where she usually carried the tazer; she cursed when it wasn’t there. she’d removed the uncomfortable thing for what she thought should have been an uneventful day of travel.

The snake lunged over the tank and Lonnie and Rogelio dove away in opposite directions. It hit the ground where they were a mere second before and hissed. Lonnie grabbed a knife from her boot and, seeing Rogelio coming around the other side of the snake, signaled him. He stopped short, dropped to one knee, and met Lonnie halfway as she bounded onto his shoulders. He propelled her up on the air so high that when the snake reared its ugly purple head again, Lonnie grit her teeth in concentration, and jammed the blade right into its eye. The snake screeched. It was like nails on a chalkboard, and sent shivers down her spine. It opened its jaws and spewed a jet of something black and putrid smelling. Lonnie rolled again, this time under the tread of the tank. A few drops of the foul black goop landed on the metal next to her and it immediately began sizzling. She scurried back to the hatch and ducked her head in to see Kyle, on his hands and knees.

“Kyle!” she shouted. “Can you reach the taser in there?”

The snake thrashed again and the tank rocked again. Lonnie fell back on her hands and scrambled away. The snakes tail came down hard on the ground beside her, snapping the main gun right off the tank like it was made of wood and leaving a crater where she had been a mere second ago.

There was a yelp from inside the tank, a crash, and a taser flew out towards Lonnie. She grabbed it, set it to maximum power, and with a running start, jammed it as hard as she could into the snake’s side. Its tail whipped around and sent her flying into the broken tread of the tank. The breath was knocked out of her. She couldn’t even scream as her leg was impaled on a piece of metal.

She collapsed there against the cold dirty underside of the tank and laid there stunned as the snake whined and wriggled uncontrollably, rocking the tank but not moving it anymore.

Eventually its death throes stopped, Lonnie managed to catch her breath. There was a piece of shrapnel embedded in her leg, but it wasn’t bleeding too badly, so she hauled herself to her feet, then limped towards the hatch. Rogelio was already there, growling frantically, half inside and trying to push crates out of the way. She couldn’t hear Kyle.

“Is he still in there? Rogelio stop, you could crush him! It’s too unstable. Can we get the back door open?”

They crawled up to the top of the tank, keeping one leery eye on the body of the great snake. They pulled the heavy doors open. The crates were almost completely blocking their entry. Some of them had burst open and pieces of armor littered the scene. Lonnie started tossing pieces out, not caring where they landed. Rogelio hauled out one of the crates, throwing it carelessly to the ground where it broke.

“Kyle!” Lonnie shouted. “Kyle, can you hear me?” Only silence greeted her. Lonnie stretched her arm down into the tank and grabbed another breast plate, but lost her grip and it fell into the tank. It clattered, which meant there was room down there and maybe a chance Kyle hadn’t been crushed to death.

“I think I can fit down there,” Lonnie said, already sliding out of her jacket. Rogelio put a hand on her shoulder.

 _Unstable_ , he signed.

“Kyles down there,” she said, voice high and- not _scared_. She was just still a little out of breath. “And you won’t fit. I’ll be fine.” She hoped. Her leg was starting to throb painfully. She needed to get that shrapnel out soon. “We won’t be able to come up this way. Meet us by the hatch?”

Rogelio nodded his assent. Lonnie looked down into the tank.

“And, uh,” she swallowed. “Give me a hand down?”

Kyle was lying on his side covered in pieces of armor. One hand was stretched out of the pile. He’d likely fainted as soon as he’d thrown Lonnie the taser.

“You baby,” she huffed. She shook his shoulder. No response. She checked his pulse, weak and fast. Well, he was alive at least. She grabbed him by the under arms and tried to drag him through the tiny space, but as she moved him, another crate dislodged and tumbled down right on top of them.

Lonnie dove on top of Kyle, shielding him from the battering slew of breastplates and helmets. He didn’t even groan in pain as Lonnie’s knee dug into his side. Bad sign. She strained to keep herself above him as metal rained down on her. She could practically feel the bruises already blooming.

 _I’ve been slacking on my planks_ , she thought as her arms trembled. A bead of sweat dripped down her forehead and from her nose onto Kyles slack face.

When the clattering of armor finally settled, she heard Rogelio yelling from outside the tank.

“We’re fine!” Lonnie called back. “He’s unconscious! I’ll have to drag him out!”

From what she could see by looking down and under her own arm, the crate that was resting precariously on Kyles leg. She extricated herself slowly. Her leg was burning after the sudden movement. Rogelio continued to growl and whine at the hatch.

“Shut up, shut up! I’m concentrating!” Lonnie snapped. She righted herself. Nothing else fell. Okay. Good. Now she just had to pull Kyle out.

Lonnie thought she might pull Kyles arms off before she pulled him out from under that crate. She stopped to take a better look at the crate trapping him.

Lonnie knew she could lift Kyle. She’d done in countless times before, in the field after he’d passed out, in simulator training after he’d wiped out, back from the gym after he’d worked himself to exhaustion. No big deal. He was only a hundred and forty pounds. No way this crate was heavier than he was. The titanium crate was about three by three by four feet, lying on its side with the bottom facing her. There was no way to turn the crate around and get the armor out to make it lighter without bringing everything on top of it tumbling down on them, but if she tipped it away from them she might be able to wedge a helmet under it long enough to extract Kyles legs.

Lonnie shifted into position to move the crate. She had one leg on either side of Kyle, maneuvering until she could rest her back straight against the crate. This would only work if she could keep her back straight. She bent her knees, tucked her fingers under the edge, and gave herself a count down.

One.

Lonnie took a deep breath. Tried to calm her rapid heartbeat. Kyles face was sickly pale. Lonnie spared a brief second to wish she had Scorpia’s brute strength.

Two.

Her leg was still burning. The pain had started radiating up her thigh and down into her knee. She probably only had one chance at this. Then she had to get the shrapnel out and slap a compression bandage on her leg as soon as possible. Another deep breath.

Three!

The crate weighed significantly more than Kyle. Lonnie grunted with effort as she pushed the crate up. Searing pain shot through her leg. She grit her teeth and pushed harder. She felt something drip down her leg and without looking knew that soon blood would be pooling around her boot- but the crate began to move. She pushed harder, dug her heels into the floor, ignored the pain. She shifted her foot, searching for the helmet- the helmet she forgot to put within easy reach. It didn’t matter. She pushed harder.

Harder. This was Kyles life in her hands.

The crate tipped over backwards and hit the wall of the tank with a huge crash. Lonnie fell backwards at the sudden lack of resistance and kicked Kyle away, scrambling to get him to safety. Another crate fell forwards and landed right beside them; there was less than a foot of space between Kyles head and the crate.

Lonnie’s heart and head were both pounding.

“Rogelio!” she shouted, breathless. Her voice hardly carried past the tank. Lonnie grabbed Kyle by the arms again, and this time she was able to drag him to the hatch. She handed him bridal style to Rogelio, who took him and placed him down on the moss with the utmost care and delicacy. Then, Rogelio offered his hand to help Lonnie out.

“I’m gonna grab a few things,” she said, still breathing heavy. “We need uh, first aid stuff. For Kyle. And like, a flashlight or something.”

Rogelio nodded.

 _Get emergency kit from passenger compartment_ , he signed. _Inside is first aid and matches._

Lonnie ducked around the corner back into the tank and pressed a hand to her leg. She got Kyle out. Rogelio hadn’t seen her leg. Everything was going to be okay.

Except that she still had a piece of shrapnel in her leg, and there was a huge bloody stain on the side of her pants that was still bleeding. She struggled over a pile of armor towards where the passenger seat was sticking sideways out of the wall. When she pushed the button that unlocked the passenger compartment, everything packed in there tumbled out on top of her.

She sorted out the first aid kit, a stash of ration bars, three different sets of screw drivers, and a contraband magazine with a rather well drawn picture of a shirtless Princess Entrapta whose hair was doing inappropriate things. Classy. Lonnie folded the picture up and stuffed it into her boot for later. Just so she could ridicule Kyle and Rogelio for having it in the first place. There was no other reason and her ears were not red.

Then she saw her saving grace: her pack. Once upon a time Lonnie had never brought a change of clothes on missions that she didn’t expect to take longer than a day or two. She didn’t mind wearing the same uniform and roughing it for a few days. It’s not like she got to take daily showers while Catra was running them ragged over half of Etheria anyway. They’d all learned to live with it. But then Kyle ate the local food at an outpost in the East and vomited all over Lonnies back as she carried his sorry sick ass back to the skiff. Lonnie had been stuck in those clothes for days; the smell followed her all the way back to the Fright Zone even after rinsing them in a river several times. She had never been gladder that she learned from her mistakes. Some of them, anyway.

She hadn’t been paying attention to their route. She’d let them get lost in enemy territory. She’d been overconfident and lazy and wasn’t carrying her weapons. She put herself, her team, and her mission all in danger with her carelessness. They were lost in enemy territory. The tank was broken. They were attacked by a giant snake. They could die in a number of horrible ways if the Princesses didn’t capture them first. This couldn’t happen again. She wouldn’t let it.

Lonnie kicked her boots off. She had to peel the material of her pants away from the wound before she could shed them and ball them up to press against her wound She hissed in pain and prayed Rogelio wouldn’t hear. The shrapnel was already gone; it must have been pushed out when she lifted the crate. It didn’t take long to unwrap a gauze pad big enough to cover the puncture and find a compression bandage. Lonnie wiped her shaking hands off on her old clothes then dug out her spare pants.

When she emerged from the tank, she felt right as rain. Except for the throbbing pain in her leg, but that would go away eventually.

Kyle was laid out, head propped up on Rogelio’s legs. Rogelio was carding his fingers through Kyles sweaty hair. Kyles eyes were finally open, but they were glazed in pain. He stared up at Rogelio like- like… Lonnie wasn’t sure what to compare that look to. Like how Entrapta looked at tiny foods. Or like Catra looked at Adora before she defected and betrayed them all.

She had the feeling that this moment wasn’t for her.

“Guys, look!” Lonnie greeted them a little too loudly, guilt thrumming in her chest. “I got the first aid kit. Kyle, what’s wrong?”

Kyle lolled his head to the side to smile weakly at her and the guilt went from thrumming in her chest to sinking like a stone in her stomach.

“I think I broke my leg,” he said, voice high and cracked.

 _Tibia fibula fractured_ , Rogelio signed. Rogelio had to let go of Kyles hand to sign, and Lonnie saw Kyle curl his hand into a loose fist over his stomach, like he wasn’t sure what to do with it.

“Great, let’s get a splint on it, ‘cause it looks like we’ll be walking back to the Fright Zone.”

 _I will carry him across half of Etheria if I have to_ , Lonnie thought. From the way Rogelio was looking at Kyle, though, Lonnie didn’t think she’d get the chance.

“we’re not going to the outpost?” Kyle squeaked. Lonnie had to roll her eyes, sudden fit protectiveness over.

“We’re nowhere near it.” She went to crouch by his leg. Sure enough, everything from the knee to the ankle was swollen and busting at the seams of his pants. Lonnie glanced at Rogelio hopefully, but he shook his head. Right. Kyle was the one with medical training.

“Are you thinking straight?” Lonnie asked. She ran her hands through Kyles hair, which was damp with sweat. He squawked in protest. “You didn’t hit your head?”

“What the hell? Lonnie, no! I just passed out! Stop that! Rogelio hit his head. I think he has a concussion because he can’t focus his eyes!”

“Okay, you’re gonna have to talk me through splinting you leg, because I don’t know how to do that, and then we need to get the hell out of here before another snake monster shows up to eat us.”

 _Negative walk back to Fright Zone. Kyle cannot walk. I cannot walk straight._ Rogelio gestured first to Kyles leg, then himself.

“Well we can’t stay here! Even if Catra knew where we were, do you honestly think she’d send anyone to rescue us?”

“she noticed we were late and comm’d us!” Kyle said. “I’m sure she’ll notice when we’re not back tomorrow and she’ll know something’s wrong.”

“And what makes you think she’s gonna care? We’re not valuable to her! She’s got a hundred other soldiers who take her abuse with less attitude then we do and she’s not gonna waste resources trying to find us! We’re an acceptable loss! She’s not our friend anymore Kyle! Now tell me how to splint you leg so we can get a move on, ‘cause the sooner we get moving the less likely we are to die out here!”

There was a heavy moment of silence.

 _Survival protocol is stay with vehicle_ Rogelio signed.

They all looked at the tank, lying broken open on it’s side, broken crates and armor littered everywhere. The inside would make a better death trap than a shelter. The treads were melted from the snakes venom, and something yellow and gooey was dripping off the side of it.

 _Eggshells_ , Rogelio signed. _We drove into snakes nest_.

“Hey Lonnie,” Kyle said, quietly. “You’ll need two long straight sticks, and a compression wrap.”


End file.
